Fall In - A post apocalyptic tale of survival
by fandango123
Summary: Lets follow John, a paranoid lunatic in the near future, who in his paranoia, purchased a ticket to the vault. Give this a read, might be a bit long, gonna get longer. Much longer if you guys whip me into doing things. No actual fallout characters here, not even in the setting of any fallout games as far as I'm aware Unless Brotherhood or tactics were set in Detroit. Feedback more
1. 1: Prelude

Authors note [Because these seem tradition]: This is my first fanfiction I've written, and even then, I only consider it a fanfic because its in the Fallout universe. Doesn't mean I don't write original content though. I tend to write poetry, stuff that can stretch a few pages. Deep and dark, usually. Brr, even reading the things I've written can send shivers down my spine.

Anyway, if this is good, whip me to write more, if you think it's bad, tell me how to make it better. If you think I'm a horrible person, that's fine, I'd agree with you, even if its false, and if you think I'm god, then follow the tumblr blog; Games, philosophy, doge. I made a few hours ago to make it easier for people to hear my point of view and philosophical discussions.

And now, the feature presentation:

Another false alarm ended.  
John walked down the street. Another drill, people murmered. Not again, they complained.  
The regularity of these warnings was startling. At first, they'd heralded nuclear doom for all, now, they were an annoyance to be blocked out.  
At least earplugs and headphones were selling well.

John lived in detroit, with its cold, brick apartments and shady, dangerous alleyways.  
You could always count on flashing red and blue police lights to illuminate your way.  
John worked as a bank clerk, but had a few hobbies on the side. These included, for example, lockpicking his way into his apartment. AGAIN.  
John was paranoid, as one would be in a city where, with tensions high as they are, one was lucky to not see someone mugged on the way to a bus stop. Few people could  
afford to drive anymore, and no one could bus for leasiure, only work or travel.  
So, of course, he has some of the best home security he can afford, Ie, barred windows, several expensive locks, safes, weapons, which he sure as hell couldn't use,  
food and water stockpiles, and of course, a ticket to a vault. He didn't trust the shabby shelters that were public access.

So he sat down in front of his chunky, analouge computer, as he was lucky to have, and recounted his day. He'd used some of his powdered egg rations for breakfast,  
gotten on the bus, gone to work, worked, eaten caffateria food, some sort of fibre/protein gruel, along with some vitamin tablets which he'd purchased privatelly, and  
worked more, before bussing home, and breaking eight lockpicks on his way in. That's three less than yesterday.

He reclined, sighing. Soon one of these alarms would be real, he thought, but how would one know if one of them was?  
That was why he'd invested in this computer. He'd written code for it himself, being uncommon knowledge, he was lucky enough to have learnt computers before reasources  
were dwindling. He ate his bland sailsbury steak, not thinking of savouring food, which he would be a risk to his well being were he to take it outside his apartment,  
and logged into a network of like minded individuals that were constantly updating all information they could find, compiling it, in the hope that they'd be able to  
warn eachother what would happen, and when. He himself was constantly writing and reviewing the state of public moral, lest anarchy reign before a single warhead be  
discharged. He also reviewed propaganda, to try and find the motives behind it.

He did his daily entry, and collapsed on his cheap, standard issue foam matress.  
Oh how things had changed.

So he fell asleep, and drempt.

He drempt he was in a steel walled hell, a purgatory of iron and man, and even that was melting away, corrupting before his eyes, he turned to run, but never could  
move his legs, except to fall. He reached out, the white window of escape looming. Steel streched out from him, and corruption behind him, he tried to crawl his way out.  
And then, of course, the monsters would decend on him, stripping his carcass before he rose, one of them, in body, mind gone.

He gasped and sweated as he jumped up in bed, in the early hours of the morning. A red light was illuminated on his computer. That could only mean one thing.

It was now.

It was funny, the alarms hadn't even gone off yet, and yet still, it was happening, for real, and no one would know, no one would pay attention. Except for those who  
made it a routine, or simply checked in occasionally just in case. Either way, after the first few fell, all would rush, and hell would break loose.

He grabbed his pre packed backpack of personal belongings and survival essentials, everything else was in lead lined safes, they wouldn't be damaged, even if scattered,  
unless there was a direct impact ON detroit itself, but he knew that wouldn't happen, there were more important facilities outside the city, those would be targeted,  
the shockwave and radiation would get Detroit.

He took his emergency exit, a window grate that could open from inside, and jumped out onto a fire escape. He shut the grill behind him, so no one could take his  
precious belongings before or after the world ends. He skipped down, and recovered his motorbike from some piles of garbage in an alleyway. He'd kept supplies of fuel, most  
were in his room, but he had enough in a bottle stashed nearby to get him to the vault. He'd paid for the fuel long before it'd run short,  
being rationed only to government officals, vips and military.  
It was worth a fortune, and he'd had to sell more than he would have liked to obtain things like the lazer pistols, rifles, chems and prototype power armour.

John mounted the bike and kicked up the stand. He'd have to drive fast, because people would try to attack him, despite the impending doom.

Perhaps my journey to the vault will make more people believe it when the alarms start this time. John thought to himself.

And with that, he revved the throttle and sped off.


	2. 2: Entry

John had swerved to avoid five knife wielders and two volleys of bullets by the time he'd gotten to the vault.

He'd lose the bike if he ditched it, he knew, but there was no helping it, he couldn't take something so big into the vault.  
It was part of the contract, they had to park their vehicles in a parking lot a few blocks away. But the nukes were coming, so it wouldn't matter.  
He offhandedly thought someone might be able to have fun with it before they died in a fiery inferno, but then decided the fuel was too  
valuable, so he siphoned it with some of the gear in his backpack. Then he jogged out of sight, through a deserted street, to throw off  
anyone tailing him, perhaps in hope of recovering that fuel. Then he doubled back to make his way towards the entrance of the vault.

His vault, vault 17, was beneath a diner. He snagged a nuka cola before heading into a meatlocker and yanking on the meat hook hanging  
in the corner behind the door, and entering the 5 digit code on the panel on the opposite side. A panel of the wall at the end of the  
locker slid away, revealing an aluminium staircase, as the fluorescent lights snapped on, one by one, illuminating his way into the rabbit hole.  
"And down went Alice, without a thought as to how she might get out" he murmured as he took a few steps down and the panel closed behind him.

He descended into the basement, before the hallway opened into a large, rectangular room, with the metal floor branching into a walkway  
with two staircases to the concrete below. beneath the walkway, behind the stairs, was a large generator, supposedly part of the vault.  
And there, in the centre, was the door.

It was a thick, large, impenetrable thing, made of a metal so dense that were it not for the fact it was mounted into a structure of similar metal  
it would have fallen out. As he stood on the platform, beholding it before descending the stairs, his new home for an indefinite period, he realised it was closed.

"Oh no, nonono, I'm too late, its closed, ITS CLOSED!" He screamed in futility.  
He skipped down the stairs and beat his hands on the adamantium, "LET ME IN! I'M NOT LATE! I'M EARLY!"  
Then he stopped, he realised that the alarms still hadn't gone off, perhaps there were no warheads heading for this area, perhaps they'd  
been called off, perhaps the alert from his computer was a false alarm, like the ones that the government did.  
But he knew that was false, because the network warning only went off when there was a flood of people sending alerts.

The bombs would fall.

But then he had another thought, "Perhaps I'm early" he muttered, as he paced the room, shrugging his backpack into a more comfortable position.  
At that moment, he heard a clang from the walkway. He turned, someone else was coming. He instantly recognised Overseer Angelina, whom he'd met  
a few times on the routine drills. She was clutching a folder under one arm and a suitcase in the other. She glanced up and saw him.  
"Oh you" She said. "Why are you here".  
"Because the world is ending." I said.  
She nodded "It is, I'd guessed you'd be one of those people who've been smart enough to prepare properly, hence your place in this vault."  
"That is true" I said "But really, why aren't the alarms going yet?"  
She shook her head "They don't tell me everything you know, but I have responsibilities. As will you once we're inside."  
I nodded, and held her luggage for her as he entered the password into the terminal by door. The colossal circle of steel slid, hydraulic systems hissing.

The door rolled to reveal a cave of iron.

"The rabbit hole" he mentioned.  
She nodded.  
They stepped in, the first two to this vault. Knowing we may never leave.


End file.
